Permanent Marks
by RbtlSR
Summary: Stiles doesn't want Scott to get a tattoo because he's all too familiar with the repercussions of permanent marks on one's body. Second person, introspective!Stiles musing on this. Trigger warning for self harm themes. I lied about this being a oneshot. Ch 2 is posted because a scene in Frayed demanded it. Hints of Sterek if you squint.
1. Tattoos

Permanent marks on your body are the worst decision ever.

When Scott told Stiles that he wanted a tattoo, all Stiles wanted to say was _No, don't, please. You deserve better._

It's not worth it.

A simple whim on one day can lead to flannel shirts and jeans forever, even on the hottest days of summer.

Stiles knew this all too well, though he'd never tell Scott about that first night he got drunk and decided that his arm would be a cleaner surface to cut than his thigh.

That he'd been cutting on his thighs for years, where shorts could easily cover them, but that one whim sentenced him to covering up even in the hottest months.

And now he's hiding forever.

After that night, he'd figured _what the fuck, why not? _because he's stuck with scars that will never heal, will never not be immediately recognizable parallel lines lining his wrists. So why not make a few more?

Permanent marks are addictive like that.

Now shorts are out of the question too.

The ones with meaning are the worst, because you won't want that meaning forever but it stares at you each day. The failures that he'd cut representations of into himself will never leave his body. The crudely carved S on his wrist will always remind him that it's his fault that he dragged Scott into the woods that night. The D on his arm will stare back at him every time he undresses, reminding him of his pathetic need to be loved, but that no one will want him. Worst of all, the aged MOM on his thigh, one of the first things that he cut, reminds him that everyone he loves will someday be gone, and no matter how many times he's tried to cut over that, to erase it, it's always there.

So when Scott wanted a tattoo, all he could think was _no, don't_, because meanings change and there are some memories that you will want to erase. Because when you regret permanent marks, it doesn't make them go away.

Scott will probably make fun of him for years for having been unable to watch the needle pierce his friend's skin, over and over, but he couldn't watch without feeling the itch all over his own arms, imagining the feeling, imagining the release when Scott cringed at the pain, but he could only imagine the relief it would bring himself. He couldn't stand the guilt he felt.

That's the problem with permanent marks – the joy that they bring is ephemeral; the pain it brings is not.


	2. Needles

"I hate needles anyway," Stiles had said. And he had left.

He had left his best friend with a crazy not-healing alpha-induced wound because he couldn't stand it.

Couldn't stand watching the needle piercing his friend's flesh over and over again

Because he knew exactly how it felt

Because he knew that if he stayed to watch, every time Allison pushed the needle through Scott's flesh, he'd be imagining that sharp stinging pain, almost feeling it as if it were happening to himself.

And he'd close his eyes and grimace and not be able to think and maybe even shut down

He had to leave his best friend because he was so weak that just watching a needle piercing through skin would overwhelm him, making him feel it too.

When Lydia told him that Scott's first question was "Where's Stiles?" it made his heart drop, full of guilt.

His issue with needles, his weakness, had made him abandon his friend when he was hurt. And it wasn't without consequence; Scott had noticed and been affected by his absence.

The worst part, though? It wasn't that he couldn't watch because vividly imagining the pain caused him physical pain.

He couldn't watch because imagining that physical pain made him feel it too, and he wanted it.

It would flood him with memories of all the times he'd pierced his own skin with a sharp object and watched the blood pour out, felt its warmth on his skin.

Watching it put him back, flooded him with sensory memories, brought back the rush of emotions he felt at those times, and he couldn't handle it.

That was why he had abandoned his best friend. It was worse than the weakness of fear, the inability to stomach pain. It was the weakness of envy, an overwhelming need to be the one on the other end of that needle, and he wasn't strong enough to force himself to go through that feeling, knowing that he couldn't fulfill that urge until later that night, being familiar with the discomfort and itch under his skin that it would cause. Not after what he'd done to himself when he found out about Derek. He just couldn't handle any more. He wasn't strong enough to put himself through that, even though it meant turning his back on Scott.

And he knew that made him a horrible friend.

He'd add that to his mental tally of "things that suck about Stiles" as he took his turn at the receiving end of a sharp object that night.


	3. At the End of the Day

**A/N:** Remember when I said this would be a one shot? And then just one more chapter? Whoops. I swear this is the last chapter ever for this story, because it does wrap it up nicely (albeit in a quite angsty fashion)

* * *

Envy was truly his greatest vice, his deepest weakness, hidden from the world. It's not a heroically tragic flaw or a universal human condition. For him, it's a secret depravity that is so shameful it rips him apart to admit it to himself.

Oh, others lavished him with praise sometimes, but not realizing how misguided they were – not realizing, as he did, they way they would recoil with disgust if they truly knew what he was inside.

As Peter had told the heartbreaking story of Derek's past, he felt his own heart wrench with empathy for the alpha. But he was a disgusting human being, and even managed to twist this into envy, incapable of even empathy without a darker selfish perversion.

No, not of the sexual kind, though he had plenty of those that made him wrong in so many other ways.

A perverted envy of Derek because his story was being shared.

Because people wept for Derek and held him close at a point in his life.

Because now others knew what broke Derek and cut him so deeply, and Derek had people who wanted to hold him close and soothe his pain.

Derek was more pure than Stiles, of course, and would not lower himself to the point of groveling for their pity. Derek did not need others to hold him and acknowledge his pain. Derek did not have a hidden desire to show his pain to the world. Derek Hale wasn't a pathetic and weak piece of shit.

Besides, Derek deserved empathy/understanding/hugs/assurances/_love_

And, even though he wasn't pathetic enough to desire/need/covet/_crave_ that not-aloneness, Derek deserved it

And Stiles envied what he knew he did not deserve

He fantasized that someday someone would know his deepest secret pain and reveal it to his friends, and they would all come rushing to his side to hold and reassure him, to comfort him or even merely acknowledge the magnitude of his internal agony.

That was always how it worked out in stories. That was always what others silently suffering deserved.

But that's not how it works for pathetic little boys who envy the attention received by those too strong to even desire it.

And at the end of the day when he curls up with only the company of his razorblade as it slices his skin and the warmth of his own blood as it drips from the wounds, there's no one there to save him.

That's the only way he'd have it

Because, at the end of the day, he knows who deserves to be saved, and it's the men with hearts full of righteousness and strength, shielding the world from their deepest torment, not pathetic little boys with hearts full of envy and pillows stained with tears, hiding their most shameful secret from the world.

* * *

**A/N: **Yeah I know it wasn't much of an ending, but in real life that's often how it works.

Fortunately for you, dear reader, if you really want to read what could be a happy (or at least happier) ending, a drabble I wrote a while ago can be seen as a tiny bit of an ending in the same 'verse

It's on my profile as "Unmentioned," or you can just add this to the end of the ffn url: s/8636331/1/Unmentioned

Also, please note that the thoughts expressed by Stiles are cognitive distortions, and do not at all reflect my thoughts. If you are suffering, you deserve help. Please don't think that any of your thoughts are "bad" or "wrong," because you have every right to your feelings and to help.


End file.
